![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Typical day. In a borrowed room, hotel, paid for by some of his new funds - because he's out of the old ones. He'd had a tarp spread out on the bed so he could sew up a gunshot victim, no questions asked. Fished out a 9 mm bullet that certainly could be police issue, but he hadn't said a word, just dropped it in the ice bucket and let someone from the organization whisk it away. Loki hasn't bothered to learn which organization. In a past life, he would have.
Now, he's stripping off the bloodied gloves, collecting the waste from the day. He's had the do not disturb sign on for days, no chance of housecleaning coming in, but it's habit now to collect the bloodiest of the trash and make sure to dispose of it somewhere discreet.
He hates evenings like this. Too quiet. Makes his hand twitch towards the television remote, but he knows what he'll do if he turns it on. It'll go straight to coverage of the rebuilding of New York. Reruns of shots of Avengers. Stark's latest exploits. It makes his skin crawl, but he can't look away. He can't stay away.
Now, he's stripping off the bloodied gloves, collecting the waste from the day. He's had the do not disturb sign on for days, no chance of housecleaning coming in, but it's habit now to collect the bloodiest of the trash and make sure to dispose of it somewhere discreet.
He hates evenings like this. Too quiet. Makes his hand twitch towards the television remote, but he knows what he'll do if he turns it on. It'll go straight to coverage of the rebuilding of New York. Reruns of shots of Avengers. Stark's latest exploits. It makes his skin crawl, but he can't look away. He can't stay away.
